Spectations

A study, of words, in crimson, sometimes blue, rarely yellow.

Archive for the tag “death”

She.

(Short Story)

She was stuck.

She didn’t remember anything.

She couldn’t see anything.

She had called for help, shouted for help, but was met only by a deafening silence.

She was afraid to stand up, but when she did she was stable. She was afraid to take a step, but when she took it and a second and a third she was on solid ground. She was afraid to reach out, but when she did her fingers brushed against smooth rock.

She could hear her heart beating; hear the sound of her breathing.

She would have stayed on the ground but the darkness around her had started to creep into her soul. She pressed a hand against the rock wall and started walking. She moved her hand forward first and then took a step. She counted five steps when there was no more rock beneath her hand. She turned into it the opening and put both hands out only to find that she was in a tunnel – two feet wide, arched, five and half feet tall. She kept her hands on the walls to either side and started moving forward again. She lost count this time around and had to stop three times to rest.

She was hungry now. She could feel a headache coming on.

She started walking again after the third rest stop. She walked another fifty feet and bumped a door. She felt around it, found a knob. She was about to turn it when she felt like she heard a whisper. She was so used to the silence that even that slight whisper made the hair at the back of her neck stand up.

She could feel the panic coming back. She took two steps back, a step forward, and another step back. She couldn’t decide. She could stay in the dark; go back the way she came, find another tunnel, maybe even a way out or she could open the door and see who owned that hushed whisper.

She took a step forward and turned the knob, and then turned it again, and again – but nothing happened. She didn’t know what was worse – the fear of the dark or the fear of the whisper which was growing closer on the other side of that wooden barrier.

She heard noises now, like nails scratching wood. She tried to calm herself. She counted till ten in her head and by the time she was done, the scratching had stopped and the door was slightly open. She could see a trickle of light coming through the slit; there were candles on the other side, but not too many. She pushed the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. She had to put her back into it, only then did it sway just a little to widen the gap so she could slip in.

She wished she hadn’t. She wished for the dark again, for the door to have never opened.

She counted them, five, hanging from rope from a beam in the ceiling. She remembered nothing, but she remembered them now. She could see her Dad still wearing his horn-rimmed reading glasses, her Mom still wearing her ”#1 Mom” apron, her brothers both had their hands glued onto PlayStation joysticks, and her sister was wearing red lipstick. She could see their bulging eyes and their swollen faces.

She heard the whisper again then, right behind her. She could not turn, would not look.

She could feel the whispers bouncing off her body, the voice was moving around her until it was in front of her – SHE was in front of her. She was her, a mirror image in 3D. She could see the mole on the wrong cheek, and the hair parted on the wrong side. She could feel it now, how wrong it all was, the other her had killed them all. She lunged at her, but before she could get a grip she was falling, faster and faster, the dark closing in on her again.

She woke up, covered in sweat, in her own bed. She ran downstairs and there they all were; her Dad wearing his horn-rimmed reading glasses sitting at the kitchen table reading, her Mom wearing her ”#1 Mom” apron fixing dinner, her brothers in the den playing on their PlayStation, and her sister wearing the red lipstick about to walk out the front door. She saw them all turn to her, ask her what was wrong. She tried answering but her throat was dry. She sat down, across the table from her Dad, sipping from the glass her Mom had handed her. She was beginning to calm down but something changed; her Dad’s face started swelling up and turning blue, her Mom’s eyes popped out, her brother went limp on the couch, and her sister screamed for her life.

She woke up again, in a different place this time and then again in a different place.

She was stuck.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

“So when do we wake this one up?”

The nurse didn’t feel sorry for the little girl, but was scared of her. The eyes had been just as glassy before putting her into the coma, just like a murderer’s.

“Fifty years to go for that one,” replied the doctor.

Well, that’s what you get for killing your whole family in cold blood. It was not her job to judge the people who came to her. They had all already been judged. Her job was to make sure they stayed under and the loop kept playing – showing them their crime, again and again until their time was done. Not many survived, and those who did – their brains refused to let them come out of the loop. They got stuck. Just like that poor girl would be. For eternity.

Bucket List (ca. 2013)

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  • Learn French, Spanish and Persian.
  • Learn to fly a plane. Get flying license.
  • Learn to ride a bike.
  • Learn to swim.
  • Learn some exotic dance.
  • Learn martial arts.
  • Travel the world – see places, have larger-than-life experiences.
  • Go bungee-jumping, parasailing, hang-gliding, scuba-diving & snorkeling.
  • Build a cabin (with water, electricity & internet) in the mountains in Rama.
  • Build a summer house on a beach somewhere. Have my parents move into it so my Mom can finally have that big bedroom window over-looking the beach & my Dad can finally have some peace.
  • Own & drive a 1960s Dodge Charger.
  • Write at least 5 books – novels, biography and memoir.
  • Read all the classics.
  • Build an awesome vinyl collection.
  • Have a library that looks like the one in Disney’s “Beauty & the Beast”.
  • Have a house big enough to contain my WHOLE family (including the friends who are more like family), should they all choose to suddenly move in with me.
  • Have a swimming pool in my backyard.
  • Go on Caribbean cruise.
  • Learn to be kind & generous.
  • Be wise enough to know which bridges to burn and which to keep.
  • Find God. Ask him for mercy.
  • Find love – the kind that endures and fulfills.
  • And truly be a ‘child of the universe’.

Till Death

I am a friend.
One who has been used, ridiculed & forsaken.

I am a companion.
One who has been robbed, beaten up & left for dead.

I am a lover.
One who has loved, lost & died.

Isn’t this what my life has turned out to be all about?

My dreams have been shattered not by enemies, but by those I called my own.
My trust has been broken not by those who broke promises, but by those who broke my heart.
My soul has been lost not to the devil, but to the hands of the people whom I loved.

Because I would give anything to the one I love.
Because I would not question the one I love.
Because
I would only listen & not protest,
I would only obey & not rebel,
I would only provide & not demand.

Yet,
When I reach out, he pulls away.
When I look, he looks away.
When I move closer, he moves away.

But he will come back again,
To haunt me,
To break me,
To leave me.

& once again, I will be,
The friend,
The companion,
The lover.

Till death,
Finally,
Robs him of my soul,
& takes me to Hell.

Yet Another Soul…

She sits in her room,
In the dark, in the silence, in the solitude.
But then there’s voices,
Telling her to stand her ground,
Telling her to give in,
Telling her to walk away.
& finally there’s the sound
of her world giving in,
of her soul shattering,
of her defeat.
Yet another proud soul,
Broken by the winds of change,
Defeaten by the norms of culture,
Murdered by the hands of love.
She does walk away, but only the body.
The soul lies there still,
Shattered & broken beyond repair.
Yet another free soul… Crushed to death… By the will to be free…

I’m Happy…

I’m happy,

Even though my

Heart is broken,

Smile is fading,

Spirit is dying…

But I’m happy

Because you

Got your way,

Had your say,

Walked away,

Made my day.

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